


Rolly Coasty

by mousewritings



Category: Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, im..... sorry about the title....... i couldnt think of anything else..........
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27437233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mousewritings/pseuds/mousewritings
Summary: “You know what’s crazy?” Ram says over the clatter of the track. “Someone got their arm sliced off on this ride ’cause they were trying to get their hat.”
Relationships: Quorra & Ram, Tron & Quorra, Tron & Ram
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	Rolly Coasty

**Author's Note:**

> yes i KNOW i've already written a fic about antics at a theme/amusement park. yes i am AWARE.
> 
> also i dont know what theme park they're at, but in my mind i call it Magical Rodent Fantasy Land

“You know what’s crazy?” Ram says over the clatter of the track. “Someone got their arm sliced off on this ride ’cause they were trying to get their hat.”

Quorra looks at him, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Really?!” she exclaims. “I mean, that’s horrible, but—really?!”

“Please stop,” Tron moans behind them. They turn a little awkwardly to see him desperately gripping his lap bar, his knuckles deathly white. “Just— _please_ stop talking.”

“Tron, what’s wrong?” Ram asks. “Flynn said that roller coasters are completely safe.”

“Not for that guy who got their arm sliced off,” Quorra points out.

“Well—yeah, but besides that. The Users who made this also tested it a lot. And honestly, can you think of anything that Users made and tested that turned out horrible?”

“The MCP,” Tron replies, blanching.

“… Oh. Right. Uh—”

Quorra squeals, cutting off their conversation, as the train reaches its apex. The drop is directly in front of them now and getting even closer. Ram bounces in his seat and cries a, “Ooh, here it comes!” as Quorra tries to lean forward and stare directly down at the drop, her grin almost feral. But Tron tightens his already impossibly tight hold on the bar, looks at the sky for perhaps the final time, and says, “Oh, god, is it too late to—”

The train hurtles down the decline. Wind rips around them, shredding Quorra and Ram’s shrieks of delight and Tron’s scream of pure fear into oblivion. They rocket through the circuit, their surroundings blurring and shifting and falling away into incoherency as the train zips over twists and loops and rolls, and when it finally slows down and comes to a stop, they stumble back onto the platform, adrenaline tingling through their systems.

“That. Was. _Incredible!_ ” Quorra yells. “I feel like I’m gonna shift into another dimension and die!”

“Oh my god, when we went—and then the coaster did the—and the track was like—!” Ram cuts himself off to scream, unable to express his enthusiasm with words. Then he composes himself and turns to Tron with a grin. “Tron, what’d you—uh?”

Tron looks haunted. There’s an emptiness in his eyes. “It was fine,” he says flatly.

“Oh, Tron, it’s okay!” Quorra says, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re alive! And you didn’t get your arm sliced off!”

“Yeah—look,” Ram says. He lightly takes Tron’s arms by the wrists and casually swings them a bit. “They’re both still attached to the rest of your body!”

Tron lets out a weird little whimper.

“Aw, I’m sorry, buddy.” Ram lets go of Tron’s wrists to put an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, let’s go find Flynn and Sam. They’re probably done drinking the water from that pirate ride now.”

“They were just joking about that. I think.” Quorra pauses, her expression becoming disturbed. And then she shakes it off and grins. “Anyway, I’m gonna go ride it again! See you in Heaven!” She runs back into the line with a speed that would make a lightcycle jealous.

“Have fun!” Ram calls after her, and then he turns to Tron. “All right, let’s go find them now. I need to ask them what Heaven is. And maybe we can try a less deadly ride afterward! Like—I don’t know, the teacups! Or the one that’s in near-complete darkness and you can’t see where you’re going!”

Neither of those rides sounds good. Tron would like to know where he’s going, thank you very much. But at least the “teacups” don’t _seem_ to have an apparent veneer of death attached to them.

He takes a deep breath. “Okay. Teacups it is,” he says, and lets Ram lead him away.


End file.
